Newcomers
by quod scripsi scripsi
Summary: The galaxy can be a dangerous place, and one species is about to learn just how dangerous. A story about the man who pulled the trigger that started the First Contact War. Rated M for violence, drugs and other mature themes.
1. Prelude

_This story is set in the same universe as my Garrus/Shepard fic Like Only Lovers Can, but happens during the First Contact War. For the sake of easy reading, this story utilises human years, time and units etc and not Galactic Standards, despite the PoV. ;)_

_For this story I'm making the assumption that Relay 314 is the Shanxi-Theta Relay. This isn't confirmed to be 100% certain, but it's the best we got._

_All characters are my own (except for mentions of canon characters). The world belongs to BioWare and the glorious writers who created the Mass Effect universe. If you, for some strange reason, would like to borrow my characters for non-profit use, be my guest. Just please inform me and give credit where credit's due, and pass the link to your fic so I can read, too._

_Anyway, enjoy! Reviews always welcome (though this is just the prelude and doesn't say a lot of the story, I know...)_

* * *

The map holo screen flickered, blurring the image of the solar system currently displayed. Laeta Pallum cursed and struck the machine with her fist. She knew it wouldn't help, but violence against an uncooperative computer was satisfying. They had slowed down from FTL speed a few hours ago, patrolling the border of a uninhabited system and the Commander wanted to hear a status report. There wasn't much to report: an inactive mass relay, a few uninteresting planets on the scanners and some shuttle junk floating around. She picked up a datapad, inserted it into the computer and started a data upload. It would take a moment, so she leaned back on her chair and picked up a half-full bowl of tisane. The steaming drink was of her favourite blend, bittersweet and strong.

A red, flashing dot appeared on the holo screen. Laeta gave it a cursory glance, but her browplates furrowed as she noticed the exact location of the dot. It was coming from the inactive relay. She set her drink aside and clicked open the interface for detailed information. Relay 314 was emitting signals. It was powering up.

"Commander! You'll want to see this. There's something wrong with 314. The mass effect fields are activating," she turned to inform Commander Iradalus.

"That's not possible," Iradalus growled, approaching Laeta's workstation.

"It can't be a malfunction, that relay's been dormant for centuries," Laeta shrugged.

"Take us closer and alert the fleet. Quickly, Pallum."

She didn't need to be told twice, not with the Commander breathing on her neck. She signalled the three heavy cruisers and six smaller fireships that made up their patrol to close in. As they neared the target, she activated the short-range scanners and her screen lit up with five new unidentified objects.

"Sir, I have five mobile targets. Vessels, presumably. They're not registered to the Council systems and aren't sending any IFF signals."

Commander Iradalus turned on his heels and marched to the communications screen in the middle of the command centre.

"Phitrax, open a comm link," he said to the turian man seated at the communications station, "Whichever ship picks up first will do."

Iradalus straightened his shirt and crossed hands behind his back, standing straight up as he waited for the video contact to open up. Several moments passed and nothing happened.

"Is there a problem, Officer?" he turned to Phitrax, looking mildly annoyed.

"Sir, nothing but static on the common channels. I will try a few more frequencies, just a moment," Phitrax tapped on the keyboard and the static changed to something else. "I'm picking up some communications. No video, though, sir. Setting up an audio link now. Go ahead, Commander."

Iradalus cleared his throat, "This is the Citadel cruiser Jaculum IV. Unidentified vessel, do you hear me? Identify yourselves." The comm crackled with noises that could have been speech, but it was no language Iradalus recognised.

"Unidentified vessel, I repeat. Identify yourselves."

"Commander, we have visual contact. They have attached a generator to the relay," Laeta turned her chair to to face Iradalus. "I think... I think they're trying to activate it. There's no way that thing would have a mass effect field powered otherwise."

The Commander groaned and tried again, "Unidentified vessel, cease your actions with the relay immediately. You are violating Citadel regulations. I repeat, cease your actions immediately."

There was more noises on the comm, nothing sensible.

"Power up the cannons. It looks like they won't comply," Iradalus ordered, "Message the fireships to draw closer and fire two light missiles as a warning."

"Unidentified vessel, this is your last warning. Unless you respond and comply, we will be forced to take action." Cornelis Iradalus watched the missiles hit one of the larger ships on the video feed screen. Chunks of metal floated away into space as explosions tore the vessel's hull apart.

There was no response still. He closed the comm link and turned away to address the crew.

"They refuse to cooperate. Load up nuclears and wipe them out."


	2. First Contact

_Chapter 2. Enjoy! Critique and comments welcome, as always._

_Revision: Thanks to justsomebody2 for pointing out the medi-gel thing. I research the plot-affecting details thoroughly to get them as correct as possible, but the flavour details sometimes escape my attention. The idea was "saline that looks like medi-gel", now corrected to "medi-gel (probably an earlier variant) that looks like saline (with NaCl or another salt critical for turian bodily functions)".  
_

* * *

The command centre of the Jaculum was buzzing with action. People rushing between screens and stations, shouting commands and status reports, calculating targeting algorithms and plotting evasive actions. Commander Iradalus stood in the middle with arms crossed on his chest, observing a video screen displaying real-time footage from all three heavy cruisers.

Two of the alien ships had returned fire after the patrol had taken one out. They'd lost one fireship already, but he was determined to take out the enemy before they wrecked further damage. Two versus eight wasn't really a fair fight, but it was just the way he liked his battles. One of the remaining ships wasn't firing and the Commander assumed it to be a passenger or cargo vessel. His crew wasn't targeting it, yet. They would take out the military frigates first, then board the passenger ship to investigate. This was probably a mercenary band trying to open new smuggling routes by bypassing Citadel controlled mass relays. Clever plan, he had to admit. Too bad for them, he'd put an end to those plans before they got further.

"Sir, one of the hostiles is moving out. Looks like they're running," gunnery officer Chella reported.

"Send a single unit after them. Avoid contact and detection, just see where they're headed," Iradalus said, eyes still fixated on the screen in front of him.

The fireships were pounding the remaining alien hostile and its shields were quickly coming down. A wing tore off, followed by a hull breach. On the screen, he could see cargo and smaller objects getting sucked out into the vacuum. A few more missiles and the wreckage was obliterated. Iradalus' mandibles twitched with satisfaction.

"Pallum, take us to boarding range and alert the strike teams. We're going to have a look inside that vessel," he ordered and left the command centre to gear up. He needed to see this himself.

* * *

Four turians were busy breaking the hull of the enemy ship and were soon through it. Two teams, each consisting of eight soldiers, pushed in, alerted to shoot at the first sign of danger. They stood in a huge cargo hold, loaded full with crates, vehicles and a couple of shuttles. Iradalus signalled the second team to check the hold for hostiles while his team inspected the cargo.

They tore open the lid of the nearest box and found sacks of white powder. A new kind of drug, perhaps? The second crate revealed boxes of syringes, plastic containers of what looked like saline and several boxes of gauzes. As they went through the rest, they found more white powder, alien seeds and medicines and a tonne of what appeared to be foodstuffs. They might be able to use some of this, he thought, but first they had to secure the ship.

They pushed onwards, up a set of stairs to the next level. This one appeared to be the crew quarters. Corridors with several doors, good places for ambushes. He motioned the teams to split up in two, each checking their own side of the level. A member of his team kicked open a door and the rest stood ready to attack. A small, brown alien was inside the room, huddled into a corner. It screamed as the squad entered the room, causing panic in the team and a knee-jerk reaction of releasing several rounds from an assault rifle towards it. It shuddered and stopped screaming, then slumped into a pitiful lump on the floor. It was bleeding profusely, covering the floor beneath with red blood and filling the room with a tangy, alien stink. The team moved out swiftly, as they heard more screams coming from the corridors.

More aliens in different colours were swarming the corridor, some of them running away and others attacking the turians with firearms and various objects they could throw. It was a bloodbath, they were so horribly underpowered compared to the fully armoured turian strike team. They ran over the bodies, catching up with the runaways to gun them down.

Iradalus opened another closed door and found a pink alien working at a computer station. When it saw him approach, it fell on its knees in what Iradalus recognised as a pleading expression. It was clearly distressed, but he wasn't taking any chances with an unknown species and kept his rifle pointed at the alien. It crossed its five-digit hands and was repeating some words over and over. He watched in amazement, shutting out the screaming and shooting happening behind him. The alien was praying. He lowered his rifle hoping for some contact with this less aggressive individual, but the alien moved suddenly, pulling out a pistol. It put the muzzle into its mouth and before Iradalus could stop it, fired the gun, blowing its brains out and splattering them on the wall behind. He shook his head and left the room.

* * *

The teams met up in the middle corridor after clearing the crew deck. They'd killed every alien they had found and the ship was now taken. Iradalus was disappointed that none would allow themselves be taken alive for interrogation. These aliens would rather take their own lives than surrender. He'd never seen this species before, either, so the mystery of who they were and where they came from remained as such.

He leaned down to examine one body they'd dragged to take along for examination. It was soft, fleshy, light brown in colour. Its head was covered in soft, black threads, reaching down to its shoulders. Its body resembled the asari vaguely, as did its face except for the black fur just above its eyes. He couldn't guess its age or gender, and would happily leave closer inspection to the science team. But they had no such facilities on a military ship. These specimens would have to be taken back to the base as soon as possible to find out more about them.

"Everything's clear, sir. We have the tech team cracking their communications and logs, though it might take a while to get results. We don't have translations for the language they use," Lieutenant Evincae reported in.

"Anything from the scout we sent after the runaway?"

"No, sir, nothing yet. They were still trailing when the last message came in."

Iradalus nodded, "Collect a few bodies to be taken to the Jaculum's safety containers and a few of the supplies we found, too. We're taking them to Pax Manentus for research. Every soldier goes through decontamination before stepping on board. The rest of the supplies go on the Beneficia. Deliver the orders, Lieutenant."

"Understood, sir. We'll get right to it."

The alien vessel was filled with turian soldiers by the time he got back to the Jaculum. The cruisers Beneficia VII and Obdurio II had docked while Iradalus' teams were busy taking the ship. Their respective Commanders would now take over and his job was done. He looked forward to the trip back home. As much as he enjoyed his work, this had been a long stationing and he needed a few days off to spend time with his wife and kids. The crew members saluted him as he marched through the command deck, to the elevator and up to the crew deck to his quarters. They'd depart for Palaven in two hours.

* * *

Iradalus woke up to his omni-tool comm beeping. He checked the time, noting that they had crossed the relay half an hour ago and were well on their way towards home. He opened the comm to hear the message.

_"Commander, we got a message back from the scout ship."_

"Did they find anything?"

_"It was a request for backup. They got ambushed. There's no follow up to the message, nothing. We have coordinates of the location where the last message was sent, though."_

"I assume the Beneficia and the Obdurio are aware of this. Tell them to monitor the situation and report back regularly."

_"Will do, sir,"_ the comm closed down.

He got up and went to his computer to see if the research teams on the alien vessel had reported in anything new. To his disappointment, the language remained uncracked, but they'd examined the ship in detail. It was clearly a civilian vessel, without military grade shielding or cannons. The crew were not armoured and they could only find basic firearms and combat knives on board. The military vessels had been escorts, he reasoned. Were these aliens refugees or explorers, and not mercenaries, after all?

It didn't matter, they were about to do something dangerous and stupid. Opening relays into uncharted territories could lead to disasters that threatened the entire galaxy. A young, ignorant species could not be allowed to risk the galactic community like that.

He reached for the bottle of liquor on his desk and poured himself a glass. He'd worked hard to raise to a position where nobody would question a drink or two on duty, and he took full advantage of the fact. He swirled the liquid around, enjoying the sweet scent raising from the glass, before taking a good mouthful. The liquor was made by fermenting the root of a flowering plant found in the northern regions of Palaven. The plant was inedible on its own, but fermentation broke down the tissues into digestible form, and formed certain relaxing chemicals as a side product. There were some who refused all sorts of liquor, calling them 'immoral' and 'destructive'. Iradalus knew the dangers of indulging too much and kept his consumption in check. He never drank as much as his body and mind craved.

He swallowed the rest of the liquor, enjoying the warmth as the chemicals spread through his bloodstream. His omni-tool beeped again, informing him that they'd arrive at Pax Manentus spaceport in quarter of an hour. He opened the holo screen again and sent a quick message to his wife, informing her he'd be home by tomorrow morning. Then he left his cabin for the command deck to prepare for docking.

"Sir, we've just received a message from the Obdurio," Officer Phitrax called as he entered the command centre. "They're under attack from an unidentified fleet. The casualties are high, and they've lost communications to the Beneficia as well as two fireships."

Iradalus' pleasant high was as good as gone, replaced by a nauseating horror, and guilt that his team wasn't there to provide assistance.

"Get me through to the Obdurio and the fleet command centre, now."


	3. A New Enemy

_Super-mega thank you to Buggirl70 for betaing and catching the errors I didn't! The previous chapters have also been corrected. Enjoy the story!_

* * *

"This is Commander Iradalus to Obdurio. What's your status?" the question came out automatically, though he already knew the answer. He heard the communications officer contacting their destination in the background.

"_We're taking heavy fire! We've lost the Beneficia, our barriers are down to twenty-five percent! At least twenty hostile contacts... There's too many of them, we..._" there was an explosion and the voice at the other end groaned. The crew members on the command deck fell quiet and still, all eyes turning to Iradalus.

The comm crackled again, and a distressed female voice spoke, "_Commander Sollus..._" another explosion in the background swallowed her words, "_... our spirits inspire your venge..._" the audio link died down to static. Iradalus closed his eyes and bowed his head in mourning. They stood in complete silence for a minute.

"_Pax Manentus control to Jaculum. Didn't catch that, repeat?_"

Phitrax broke the silence and answered the call, "Jaculum requesting permission to dock."

"_Permission granted. Approach gate 21. Control out._"

Iradalus took off for the airlock immediately, pacing around in the minutes it took for the ship to reach the gate. He stepped out of the airlock into the hangar as soon as the doors opened. Pax Manentus station was one of the oldest stations orbiting Palaven still in active use. Despite its technology being vigorously maintained and upgraded, the design of the station was hopelessly old-fashioned and wasteful. Turian spacecraft design had moved on in the past two hundred years and was no longer quite as megalomaniac. High halls and impressive, decorated corridors had been replaced with functionality and making the most of limited space and resources. The sheer amount of eezo it took to run an older station like Pax Manentus was mind-boggling, and the costs had been a major decisive factor for the Hierarchy to phase out and replace several stations with new models. Even the hardcore traditionalists, hellbent on maintaining imperial symbols of power, couldn't argue against the power of credits.

Marching towards the entry to the inner facility, he noticed the welcoming party approaching: six military police in black and silver uniforms, armed with shotguns and traditional combat blades hanging from their belts. Their leader, a tall female from a Taetran colony, stepped up and saluted him. The others followed.

"Commander Iradalus. General Baius is expecting your report in person. Come with me, sir."

He nodded and and followed. She was striding fast and and he had to make an effort to keep up with the pace. He wondered how far the news had spread, and who he would be meeting with. The long, high corridors felt even more oppressing now. After a couple of turns, they finally reached their destination. The door swooshed open as the Taetran entered an access code. She saluted again, and motioned him to step in.

The office of General Baius was modestly decorated, compared to the rest of the station. A computer workstation, a large table surrounded by chairs for meetings, a couple of datapads neatly piled on the meeting table, but no personal objects. The General himself was seated at his terminal. He was some decades older than Cornelis, though he didn't know how old exactly, a Palaveni patriot through and through. Baius didn't show any signs of recognising his presence, so he decided to stand there and wait until he was addressed.

"Close the door, Commander. There's something wrong with it, and the lazy sods from the tech department seem to have better things to do than brighten an old man's day with a little helpful gesture."

"Ah... yes, sir," he said and turned to press the door button. It took a few tries before the door closed and locked itself automatically. He turned back to see the General standing by the meeting table, motioning him to sit down. He took a seat middle at the table. Baius remained standing.

"So, I understand we lost some ships today. Is this correct, Commander? Two cruisers and six light frigates. And the crews of all those ships too. It's a sad day, indeed, isn't it?" He paused and Iradalus knew he was looking right at him with that disapproving look he'd seen given to others before. The words the General spoke might have been diplomatic, but his tone was just demanding. "Now, since your ship made it out unscratched, you must have some information on what exactly happened out there. I'd be delighted to hear everything, Commander."

"Of course, sir," Iradalus took a deep breath and begun. "We encountered an error with Relay 314 and went to investigate. This sector is uninhabited and the relay inactive, but it was showing up in the sensors as an active relay. We discovered five ships in the vicinity, trying to activate it. They did not respond to warnings, so we... uhh, I gave the order to attack. One of the ships got away and a scout was sent after it to track it down." He glanced to the side, but couldn't see the General.

"An enemy cargo vessel stayed intact during the brief battle. We boarded this ship and found a variety of goods, some which the Jaculum brought for the research team to investigate. We also encountered some of the, ah, aliens on board the ship. They were of an unidentified species and hostile. We collected a few specimens for research."

"Continue, Commander."

"The Beneficia and the Obdurio stayed behind to investigate on site. We departed to bring the alien specimens to a proper facility for immediate inspection. I, uhh, thought this to be for the best since this is an unknown species that appears to have reasonable technology to open a mass relay. We don't know what kind of an enemy we are facing." He paused and closed his eyes. "The scout ship was destroyed by an unknown enemy. As we were closing Pax Manentus, we heard the patrol was under attack, from at least twenty ships according to Commander Sollus of the Obdurio. Then... we lost contact with them."

"Do you think this unknown enemy was the species you encountered, Commander?"

"They had advanced frigates and technology. I don't see why anyone else would be at that corner of space at that time and decide to attack us. Even mercenaries know better than that."

The General remained silent, and Iradalus heard his footsteps, moving around the table to the opposite side. He looked up at Baius, now facing him.

"I agree. You did the right thing, Commander. Now, I will need to discuss this with the higher command for our next step. You'll be accommodated in the guest wing in the meantime. The Hierarchy may wish to hold a hearing in the coming days. Inform your crew of the arrangements."

"I understand, sir, and will do so." He felt his heart sink, knowing it'd be days more before he was home. He saluted the General and turned to exit the office.

"Oh, do close the door from the outside, Commander."

* * *

Some hours later Iradalus was killing time on the observation deck. He'd had a few imported quarian beers, the bottles now discarded on the nearby table. The selection of this station's only bar was limited, so beer would have to do for now.

He leaned on the railing, looking out of the lounge window. The side of Palaven facing him was currently shadowed but littered with endless lights from the megapolises covering her surface, defining each continent and island from the black oceans. He would never forget the first time he stood here, on the same observation deck, looking down at his home. It had been the same rush of emotion his ancestors had surely felt nearly thirty centuries ago when they first took off of their home planet and jumped into the unknown. The logical mind told him that there were much greater things in the galaxy to be in awe of, but his instinct reminded him that this was where he came from, this was what really mattered.

On the edge of shadow covering the planet his family would soon begin their day. In a few years time his sons and daughters would stand on a station orbiting their home planet and be humbled by the same view.

His ancestors' jump into the unknown hadn't been only for the good of the nation. They'd been scattered away from each other, torn apart as a people. They'd fought each other, clans and colonies. Though it was nearly fifteen centuries ago, some still remembered. It hadn't been just each other they fought. They'd always known they weren't alone, but finally meeting 'the others' had been bloody, destroying millions of turian lives. Still newcomers, they'd been pulled into a galactic war that threatened entire civilisations.

The galaxy was a dangerous place. One stupid move could lead to surprises that disrupted the delicate peace they'd worked so hard to achieve. His duty was to make sure it didn't happen, so his children could one day see their home as the generations before had seen it.

"It's true what they say; Palaven is at her most beautiful at night," the voice of Laeta Pallum pulled him back to the present. The First Lieutenant smiled and offered him a glass of meltus and leaned on the railing next to him, idly swirling her own drink around in the glass. "You can barely see Shastinasio from the orbit at night, let alone the rest of Invictus."

He gladly accepted the drink and downed it in one go. Pallum knew his preferences when it came to poisons, perhaps a little too well. Meltus was not available in this lounge, so she'd had to bring some from her own stash. The Invictan had been part of his team for three years. She'd been fresh from the Academy when she'd joined, but had proven her skill and loyalty to the team irreplaceable. She was a lifer without a close family that he knew about, and had his life been different they'd probably have been more than mere comrades in arms. Pallum's darker features, a reminder of her ancestral northern Palaveni roots, pleased him as much as they did the next guy from the equatorial regions. It was exotic and different from the pale and silvery plates of girls from his neighbourhood.

"The rumours have already spread around the station. I hear the generals are clawing each others' throats open over the alien matter. We are with you, Commander, no matter what happens," she continued.

He closed his eyes and nodded, the familiar warmth taking over and soothing his nerves. The generals and politicians would argue, throw accusations of treason and threats of civil war until the Primarchs would have enough of the bickering and push for an agreement with brutal force. The theatrical displays of establishing colonial pecking order that sometimes were turian politics usually amused him, but he knew his own career depended on this particular outcome and, for once, was somewhat concerned.

"They needed something to argue about, and an unknown species provided the opportunity. They'll come around to see reason," he said, assuring himself more than Pallum.

"I suppose so," she sipped her drink. "I'm sorry you couldn't go home. It's been a long patrol. They must miss you terribly."

"They'll understand. It's not my choice to remain here." He turned to Pallum, holding up his glass, "Say, you didn't happen to bring some more? It's a long way to the the ship from this level..."

"Sure. My cabin's just at the beginning of the corridor over there," she nodded.

Iradalus was feeling positively lightheaded as they walked to Pallum's cabin, still clutching his glass. It was smaller than his temporary residence, with a single bed and a locker, a table and a chair. Pallum motioned him to take a seat and went to rummage through her locker. Not having many options, he decided sitting on her bed would be rude and sat on the chair instead.

She sat on the bed with the bottle and poured herself a glass, then offered to fill his. He downed his second a bit too eagerly, and put the glass aside on the table. She was sipping hers slowly, looking rather amused.

"Is something troubling you, Commander?"

"Cornelis. We're quite off duty here," he laughed, head buzzing now from the narcotic effect of meltus. "Laeta. What do you think we're up against?"

"I don't want to guess. But we'll hold, whatever comes. We've a fleet better than anyone in this galaxy." She took another sip and gave him a mandible-flare smile.

His eyes locked with hers and he felt a surge of longing rush through his body. Three years she'd stood by his side, two of them as his right-hand on the deck. He didn't see his family but once every two months, but Laeta was there, always. She tilted her head questioningly, and he turned his eyes away from her.

"Well, thanks for the chat. It's going to be a long day tomorrow. Good night, Laeta." He nodded and stood up, leaving for the door.

She finished her drink and nodded back, "Good night, Cornelis."


End file.
